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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25160665">Tennessee Waltz</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/saladbabie/pseuds/saladbabie'>saladbabie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, I'm bad at tags, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Precious Peter Parker, authenticity, i live in a farm town</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:42:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,591</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25160665</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/saladbabie/pseuds/saladbabie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harley takes his best friend, Peter, to visit his hometown in Tennessee, they come up with a list that'll make the best summer together ever: Barbecues, carnivals, and Waffle House?</p><p>All that could possibly get in the way is misunderstandings, old friends, and very very slow tractors.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harley Keener &amp; Peter Parker, Harley Keener/Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Peter liked to believe that he was normally a responsible person. He did his homework on time, he protected the city with (usually) minimal injuries, and he protected his identity from <em> most </em> people. However, on the second day of his summer vacation, he woke up with the realization that he was meant to leave with Harley to visit his hometown in Tennessee. An hour ago. With an empty suitcase.</p><p>“I told you this would happen if you didn’t pack earlier, Peter. We’re already late,” Harley called, leaning on his door frame as Peter scrambled to throw miscellaneous clothing items into his Uncle Ben’s old suitcase.</p><p>“Oh, it’s fine. You know the jet won’t leave without you.” Tony noted from the hall.</p><p>“I told Ma that we’d be there for lunch. Peter, I told you to pack last night.”</p><p>Meanwhile, Peter was using his webs to grab shirts from an open drawer without moving. That is, until he aimed too low and pulled the entire drawer instead, smacking himself in the face with the wooden drawer before turning it over and emptying the contents into the suitcase. Watching the ordeal, Harley bust out laughing, hardly able to stand up straight and gripping the door frame for support.</p><p>“Quit laughing,” Peter whined, moving on to pack pants for his trip, “Get me a muffin?”</p><p>“Sure thing, Darlin. Hurry up and finish.” Harley meandered across the hall, knowing that Peter wouldn’t be finished packing for some time. </p><p>“Blueberry, please?” Peter called down the hall. Harley carefully picked out one chocolate chip muffin and one blueberry (discreetly searching for what looked like the best one). Munching on his own, he wandered back to Peter’s room to set the blueberry muffin on the dresser. Unsurprisingly, Harley found Peter sitting on his suitcase reaching to zip it up.</p><p>“Why would you choose blueberry muffin over chocolate chip?” Harley muffled through a mouth of muffin. </p><p>“I don’t like chocolate chip muffins. Especially at breakfast.” Peter turned, picking up his fully packed suitcase. “I think chocolate chips probably shouldn’t be in breakfast foods. It’s too much chocolate for the morning.” He picked up the muffin smiling at Harley, “Ready?”</p><p>“Pete. I’ve been ready since we were meant to leave three hours ago. You’re gonna love Rose Hill. You’ll hate it too; I do.” Harley took Peter’s suitcase and slung his arm around the smaller boy casually, leading him out of the tower. “Are you nervous?”</p><p>“Of course not.” Peter breathed, thinking about everything he had to be nervous about, “Do you think your family is going to like me?”</p><p>“They’ll love you. You’re going to love Abbie; she’s a little brat, but you can’t call her that, only me.” Peter laughed out a quick “okay” in response as they approached the car. The car that Happy had been sitting in for three hours. When they slid in, the partition was already raised. They all knew Happy didn’t have the energy to deal with both teenagers at once. Last time he tried to, he ended up leaving the tower with infinitely more knowledge than he ever wanted about whatever Vine was, and he was certainly not interested in learning about what they talked about now: Tick Tock. <em> “Why do they pronounce tortilla like that, Tony? I’m not babysitting the kids anymore.” </em>Tony pretended as well as he could to be equally frustrated with the confusion, but his drive to learn left him more than interested in whatever it was they talked about. (His drive to learn, and not an emotional connection he had for the two teens).</p><p>Tony gave his goodbyes to the boys when they arrived at the jet, trying his best to hide how much he’ll be missing the chaos for the summer. “Alright, boys. I’ll see you in August, yeah? Of course you’ll both miss me tons and call me during your three month long date.”</p><p>“We’re not dating!” Peter and Harley quickly corrected Tony in unison who looked between the boys and their interwoven hands.</p><p>“Right, not dating. So have fun on your, uh, Not date.” </p><p>When the two boarded the plane (greeting a very disgruntled pilot), they naturally opted to sit directly next to each other for the company on the plane ride.</p><p>“Did you know I’ve actually only been on a plane twice before? I’ve been on a spaceship once but I don’t think that counts. None of those plane rides were very enjoyable, and the spaceship didn’t end too well. I had to learn to fly it. But we get to hang out for this one, so it’ll be better!” Peter immediately melted into his usual chatty self as the plane increased in altitude, “Maybe we can play those games that people play on road trips! Like the license plate game! I guess that one wouldn’t work too well though… Or I spy!” Harley chuckled as Peter went on, forgetting about everything else. “I spy with my little eye something,” Peter trailed off, gazing at their surroundings, “Blue!”</p><p>Harley glanced at Peter, then to the window, then back at Peter, thoroughly unimpressed. “Pete, I really hope it’s not the sky, but I know it is.” Harley could barely hold back his laughter when Peter looked at him, astounded that he guessed so quickly. “You know, sweetheart, for a kid so smart, you can be really dumb sometimes.”</p><p>“That’s where you’re wrong, mi amigo. I’m dumb in <em> every way </em>. I almost got banned from chemistry when I got water mixed up with sulfuric acid and suggested that a taste test would identify which is which. Ned still makes fun of me for it.” Harley’s chest shook with laughter at the way Peter trailed off sheepishly. “By the way,” Peter suddenly burst out, “I want to know your friends! You must be friends with everyone, right? Little town?”</p><p>Harley turned to gaze out the window and coughed, “Yeah, yeah. There’s Gwen. She’s my best friend, and you two will get along great. She’ll want to meet you. I just, I don’t really keep close in touch with anyone else, ya know? I mean, Southern town, not everyone is the greatest.”</p><p>“Did you know I’ve never been to the country? I have a list of stuff for us to do. You should add to it too. You know country summers better than I do.” Peter quickly pulled Harley out of his thoughts.</p><p>“Of course, Darlin,” Harley smiled, “I’ll take you to all my favorite places, and I’ll show you the stars and bring you to all of the hick festivals.”</p><p>“Hick festivals?” Peter smiled disbelievingly.</p><p>“Of course. All the rednecks in town gather for the fairs and the carnivals, and you watch like you’re at the zoo.” </p><p>The two slowly built their list for the rest of the flight and split them up into things they could do whenever they chose, and things that were on a timed basis. </p><p>“So since the carnival is only in town for a week, we know that we have to go during that week.” Harley explained when he started copying their list again.</p><p>As they descended towards the ground in Tennessee, Peter peeked out the window and looked around the ground below. “Woah, it looks like a big quilt on the ground!”</p><p>“Those are all the fields.” Harley reasoned, gazing towards the ground with Peter, “You can see every edge since we’re so high up. Cool, right?”</p><p>“Super cool.”</p><p>When the plane landed, Harley took Peter in his truck and began the drive back to his home, another two hours away. Meanwhile, Peter marvelled at all of the farms and fields that they passed on the way. Green and yellow fields rolled across hills for seemingly endless miles. Peter had never seen anything like it in his life. When one field of crops became another, Peter gasped at the tallest crop he had ever seen in his life, easily a super food and rare monstrosity amongst farms.</p><p>“What <em> is </em>that?” Peter questioned in awe.</p><p>“What?” Harley asked, glancing out Peter’s window, “You mean the corn?”</p><p>Corn. <em> Corn. </em>Corn?</p><p>“<em> That’s </em>corn?!” Peter was bewildered by the knowledge. “What do you mean that’s corn? It’s huge! How is it so tall?”</p><p>“What do you mean ‘What do I mean’? It’s corn, Peter, it’s a tall crop. That’s nowhere near how tall it gets. It’s only June.”</p><p>“Well how do they get corn from that? Where’s the corn part?”</p><p>“Have you seriously never seen a field of corn before?” Harley finally glanced away from the road to look at Peter, “The corn is inside it, Peter. They have husks that you take off before you get to the part that you eat.”</p><p>“Harley, look!” Peter pointed forward, drawing Harley’s attention ahead of them. Quickly, Harley gripped the wheel tight and whipped his head back around to look out the windshield, heart skipping a beat. He saw nothing but common fields.</p><p>“There are cows over there! In the field!”</p><p>Peter nearly stopped Harley’s heart over cows.</p><p>“They’re all eating the grass in that field!” Peter could hardly keep his voice down, lifting out of his seat and wildly pointing out of the windows.</p><p>“Peter,” Harley began hesitantly, “Have you never seen cows before?”</p><p>“Are they everywhere? Harley, no way, they’re so close to the road too! You can see them from here, and, oh! That one up there has his head over the fence! They’re so cute.” Peter’s speech sped up until one overjoyed word nearly crashed into another. Immediately, Harley pulled over and slowed to a stop, knowing exactly what he needed to do. As he stopped in front of the cow field, stepping out of the truck as he gestured for Peter to do the same. He greeted the cow and reached to pet her, hand scratching behind her ears.</p><p>“Are we allowed to do this? They’re not our cows.” Peter tapped his fingers together hesitantly at the idea of petting somebody else’s cows.</p><p>“They won’t mind. Anyways, the cows like the visitors.” Harley scratched the cow’s neck affectionately before reaching to the ground and ripping out a handful of grass. “Here, give me your hand. Like this.” Harley showed his cupped hand, palm up, indicating for Peter to imitate the gesture. Slowly, Peter raised his hand in the same cup shape that Harley showed him, and Harley dropped the grass in Peter’s hand. “Now stay like that, right here.” Before Harley could even finish moving Peter’s hand, the cow began to chew on the grass that Peter held.</p><p>Peter loved it. And he hated it. The cow’s mouth felt gross and weird eating out of his hand, but hand feeding a cow was so cool that it made it worth it. He’d definitely be telling Ned and MJ about this later, he thought. (And MJ would tell him he was lame for getting so excited over a cow).</p><p>“I can’t believe she’s just eating out of my hand like this.” Peter whispered in amazement. The pure amazement only lasted for a moment as Peter turned his attention away from the cow and towards Harley. As soon as he looked back at the cow eating from his hand, he found that the cow was no longer eating from his hand, but attempting to eat the sleeve of his oversized hoodie.</p><p>“Harls, Harley?!” Peter shook his arm wildly in a rapid panic, the cow following the movement with ease, “Help me, help me. What do I do?”</p><p>Harley calmly pried open the mouth of the cow and took Peter by the hand, leading him back to his truck as the cow turned away unphased.</p><p>“I can’t believe she would do that. That was really not cool.” Peter complained while clicking his seatbelt into the slot, “No more stopping for cows.”</p><p>For another hour and a half, Peter gawked at the fields and the farms, naming animals and noting changes in crops as they drove past. Making sure to mention every instance of a baby animal, Peter noted that Harley wasn’t nearly as amazed at seeing the cows and sheep and horses.</p><p>“I see them all the time, Pete. I live here.” Harley responded as he pulled into a long gravel driveway. Peter watched as a blonde woman greeted Harley from the top of the driveway, </p><p>“Welcome home, baby. We missed you so much.” She turned from Harley to Peter, quick to greet her guest, “You must be Peter! Harley’s told me so much about his <em> special </em>friend.” She gleamed with a wink.</p><p>“Ma,” Harley began with a warning tone. The look on his mother’s face told Peter that the two already had a discussion before Peter arrived.</p><p>“Okay, okay. I have barbecue ready, and Abbie’s getting cranky that she can’t eat yet. Come fill your plate, Peter. Make yourself at home.” Harley’s mom pushed paper plates into the boys’ hands and led them to the backyard where two tables were set up, one empty and one with buffet style food set up. Next to the food table stood a girl, no older than thirteen, waiting impatiently with a plate in her hand. Abbie, Peter thought. With as much as he knew about her, he was sure he’d be able to recognize her from a mile away. As soon as Harley and Peter set foot into the backyard, she was plating food and sitting to eat. </p><p>Following Harley’s lead, Peter hesitantly plated himself a burger as well as corn on the cob and watermelon. At the end of the table sat a pitcher of what Peter assumed to be water, but when he poured it out and looked at the liquid unsure, Harley commented, “What? You’ve never had sweet tea before?”</p><p>“I’ve only had hot tea.”</p><p>“It’s okay, you’ll love this. And if you don’t, you have to leave.” Harley laughed when Peter pushed his arm before he grabbed his own cup of sweet tea to sit down.</p><p>“You must be Peter,” Abbie began with a mouthful before gulping down her watermelon, “I’ve heard <em> so much </em> about you. I mean, really, Harley just talks about you <em> all the time. </em>” She drew out her words, exaggerating her phrases. </p><p>“You wanna shut it, Abbie? I’ll still tell Momma about-” Abbie was quick to shut Harley up with a slap to the upper arm.</p><p>“Be nice to your brother,” Harley’s mom called absentmindedly from the other side of the yard, a habit grown from years of raising siblings.</p><p>“Did you know that Harley’s never had a boy home before? You must be very special.” </p><p>“You’ve never had anyone home either, Abigail. Why is that? Don’t you have a special crush at school? What was his name?”</p><p>Peter’s silence went unnoticed as the two siblings went back and forth. He’d never actually seen siblings quip back and forth in that way. Peter never had any siblings, and neither did Ned or MJ, so he sat and observed until Mrs. Keener came to save him.</p><p>“Abbie, quit antagonizing Harley’s friend. What do you think of the tea, sweetheart?”</p><p>“It was very good. Thank you so much, Mrs. Keener.”</p><p>“Please, honey, call me Macy.”</p><p>As the four ate their food, Abbie and Macy asked Peter everything. They asked about school, about his friends, about his hobbies and aspirations. Occasionally Harley would grant Peter ease by answering the questions himself and letting Peter go without stress for a moment. Other times he’d answer the questions merely because he believed Peter was being too modest. </p><p>“Oh, come on, Pete. You’re the smartest kid at Midtown. He’s on track to be valedictorian and is already in contact with MIT for after he graduates.” Peter blushed as the family doted on him and told him how incredibly smart he must be. The two continued to learn as much as they possibly could about Peter before Harley inevitably had to drag him away from his family (knowing that they were going to act like that when they finally met Peter).</p><p>“We should go and get Peter unpacked. We’re really tired too from the flight,” was the excuse that Harley gave them as he pulled Peter by the hand into the house.</p><p>“It was nice meeting you,” Peter called turning behind him, “Thank you for the meal!”</p><p>“Sorry about them. I knew they’d be that way when I brought you home.” Harley scratched the back of his neck. Peter assured him that it would be okay, but he was too busy taking in his surroundings in Harley’s house. He gazed around at the homey rooms filled with knick knacks and family photos to cover the walls. He stopped at one photo of Harley and three others when Harley was certainly no older than five or six. </p><p>“So cute,” he noted, facing Harley, “Look at your little haircut!”</p><p>Harley only scoffed and tugged Peter along, “Do you want to unpack now? You can have the drawers I emptied when I moved to New York.”</p><p>Peter took more care with his clothes while unpacking, taking extra attention to fold the clothes that ended up in balls while he was throwing the garments into the suitcase only that morning.</p><p>“Do you want to start working through that list tomorrow? We can choose something quick that doesn’t take long to plan.” Peter finished placing folded clothes into Harley’s empty drawers.</p><p>“We can go picking wildflowers,” Harley offered. “I know a nice place where lots of nice wildflowers grow, and we can even bring some back for Abbie and Ma, and there’s that little diner that I mentioned since it’s really close.”</p><p>“That sounds really nice,” Peter hummed standing up. He stepped towards Harley and wrapped his arms around the taller boy’s waist as Harley’s wrapped around his shoulders, one cradling his head. The two hugged so often that they melted into each other’s arms naturally and easily. “I’m really glad I’m here for the summer. We’re going to have a really good time; I just know it.” Peter closed his eyes and nosed further into Harley’s shoulder, humming contentedly. </p><p>“Are you tired, Darlin? You can sleep here in my bed. I’ll take the floor.” Harley mumbled rubbing circles into Peter’s back. He rested his head atop Peter’s chin and closed his eyes to join Peter.</p><p>“No, Harley, you take your bed. I’m your guest, I can’t make you sleep on the floor.”</p><p>“Pete, you’re my guest, so <em> I </em> can’t make <em> you </em>sleep on the floor. I’m not sleeping on the bed if you’re sleeping on the floor.”</p><p>“Well I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”</p><p>“Fine.” Harley climbed atop the bed clothes and all, and Peter smiled in victory before Harley spread his arms, “C’mere. We both sleep on the bed.”</p><p>Peter hesitated a moment, a blush rising on his cheeks.</p><p>“Peter. We’ve slept in my bed in New York plenty of times. This is no different.” </p><p>Finally, to Harley’s gratitude, Peter leaned into the bed and curled up in Harley’s arms entirely clothed before falling asleep for the night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The old clock in the truck read 8:00 AM. (It was actually 9:00, but Harley never cared enough to set it forward for daylight savings time). Harley’s truck bumped along worn dirt and gravel roads as Harley and Peter bumped in their seats in time. The tires kicked up dust as they drove past fields and forests, far from any paved roads.</p>
<p>“Are you sure this is, like, legal?” Peter glanced at the dirt road nervously. He’d never driven off of neatly blocked New York roads.</p>
<p>“They’re back roads, Pete. They’re just not paved.” Harley laughed at how little the boy knew outside of the city. Still, he drove slower to ease the boy’s anxieties about driving on back roads, and he clearly didn’t like the feeling of riding along them. Despite having seen two hours worth of country roads the day before, Peter still couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of the animal fields that they passed, making sure to point out “Horses!” with a pointed finger any time they passed horses.</p>
<p>And sometimes when they passed mules. And donkeys.</p>
<p>Peter knew when they made it to the place because when he glanced out the window, he was greeted with a rainbow of wildflowers varying in size and color. The field took his breath away, only tearing his eyes away to look back towards Harley.</p>
<p>“Holy shit! It’s gorgeous, Harley!” When he looked back to Harley, he found him facing away from the flowers, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, lips pressed into a thin line.</p>
<p>“Harley,” Peter reasoned, “Is everything okay?”</p>
<p>“Of course, Darlin,” Harley grinned at the boy half-heartedly. Peter let him be, making a mental note to ask again later, when they got to lunch, but he didn’t need to push it immediately.</p>
<p>Peter hopped out of the truck (which was slightly too tall for his legs) and immediately started assessing which flowers would make the best bouquets to bring back to Harley’s family. He gathered large pink and yellow flowers, and small white ones for the filler. Carefully, Peter searched for the flowers that looked almost fully bloomed (so that the bouquet would bloom and last longer in the vase).</p>
<p>More often than not, his mind wandered to Harley who, Peter noticed, was acting uncharacteristically quiet. He watched the boy quietly pluck flowers, not taking his eyes off the ground. He seemed almost unwilling to let his gaze wander to the magnificent greenery that surrounded them. Peter loved to watch Harley (in a friendly and <em> not creepy </em> way), but seeing him act so quiet, and off put, and so <em> not Harley </em> made his heart hurt just a little. </p>
<p>Harley had just finished his bouquet when Peter approached him with a bouquet of his own which made Harley’s look, frankly, pitiful. </p>
<p>“I think it’s gorgeous,” Peter reassured him. Harley let out a laugh, knowing that his bouquet was not gorgeous (certainly not next to Peter’s). Peter felt his heart melt watching Harley’s mood shift. “Here,” Peter placed a crown of black eyed susans on Harley’s head, “I made this. Now you can be the prince of the farm town.” Harley gave Peter a small smile, not one that Peter saw often. So often Peter was greeted with Harley’s charming beam, or a confident smirk. Peter liked it.</p>
<p>Harley led Peter back to the truck, hand in hand, mood lifted significantly, (but Peter wouldn’t forget to question Harley at lunch anyways). Harley placed the flower crown around his truck’s rear view mirror. The simple act reminded Peter of something that Tony would do casually (only Tony’s would be in a luxury sports car in the city and not a beat up truck on dirt roads). Peter made a mental note to call Mr. Stark that evening. Peter was shaken out of his thoughts when Harley started the car and started talking to him.</p>
<p>“To be fair, we <em> could </em> just walk, but then we’d have to walk back. It’s only a few minutes away.” He mentioned as he shifted the truck into drive.</p>
<p>“Where are we going? The diner?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, it’s called the Dixie. Used to go there all the time freshman year.”</p>
<p>“Do you miss it?” Peter asked as they rounded a corner. He could see the sign, <em> Dixie Diner </em>, just up ahead.</p>
<p>“Sometimes. I wouldn’t want it back now, though. Now I get to have Alfie’s Pizza in Queens, yeah?” He grinned at Peter as he pulled into a parking space by the door.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Peter smiled, opening his own door. He hopped from the truck and walked across the gravel parking lot. “Harley, can we talk?” He began as Harley neared the entrance. A small bell above the door rang as Harley pushed it open. Before Peter could take in his surroundings, Harley pulled Peter by the wrist to a table in the corner.</p>
<p>“Harley? Everything okay?” Peter asked quietly when he noticed Harley immediately turn his attention to the menu. </p>
<p>“Yeah, of course.” Harley forced a smile, “Just checking out the menu. You know, see what I want.” Peter hesitantly picked up a menu and grazed over the options, realization crashing over him that Harley would not be having a conversation with Peter about the flower field for the time being.</p>
<p>“Harley! Hey, pal, I thought you were in New York. Who’s your boyfriend?” A boy with brown hair styled upwards approached their table with a grin. </p>
<p>“We’re not dating.” Peter answered simply, “I’m Peter. Peter Parker.”</p>
<p>“Eric James.” The boy pulled out a chair and sat with the two of them. “I haven’t seen you around Peter. You from out of town?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m just visiting with Harley from New York.” Peter gestured towards Harley who was still staring intently at his menu, face rested on one hand.</p>
<p>“City boy? That’s cute.” Peter was hesitant at the flirtatious nature of the other boy, but blushed nonetheless, and Harley felt his heart crack just a little bit (or maybe more than that). It doesn’t matter how Harley felt about it though because he and Peter were <em> not dating. </em>In fact, they didn’t even feel that way about each other, and Harley was more than conscious of that, so if Eric wanted to act that way then there was nothing Harley could do about it.</p>
<p>“I went to school with Harley before he moved. We were real close, right?” Eric gave Harley an eager pat on the shoulder as Harley silently looked up from his menu, eyes wide.</p>
<p>“Yeah, uh, yeah,” he hardly managed to cough out. Eric grinned at the boy then turned his attention back to Peter.</p>
<p>“So, what do you do in big ol’ New York? Ride the subway? Order fancy coffee at fancy coffee shops?” Peter took in the surrounding of the diner as he answered.</p>
<p>“Yeah, basically,” he joked. “I love New York, but not everyone does.” Peter quickly put a chatty front above his visible nervousness, how he always handled meeting strangers as Peter Parker. “Everyone thinks the people are rude, and sometimes they are, but my friends are really cool. Plus the fancy coffee is actually really good.”</p>
<p>“Maybe I’ll have to come visit someday, City Boy. You can show me around and take me to all the best fancy coffee shops,” Eric mused. He leaned into the conversation as he spoke.</p>
<p>“Sure, I mean, I’d love to. I know New York pretty well so if you ever need a tour guide you can always come to me, or I can introduce you to my friends.”</p>
<p>Eric stayed around to chat until a waitress approached the table to take their order. Peter just barely caught the way he sauntered when he walked out the door, bell ringing as it opened.</p>
<p>As the two ate, Peter periodically stole glances at Harley who ate stoically and continually folded his straw wrapper while the straw sat on the table next to his glass. Even on his bad days in New York, he’d never really seen Harley go quiet like this, so he decided it’d be best to leave the talk for a later time.</p>
<p>“Your friend was nice,” he offered, taking a sip of water.</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah. Yeah.” Harley gave Peter a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, and Peter gave up hope of having even small talk.</p>
<p>When they were finished, Harley drove them back to his house. A country song that Peter would eventually forget played fuzzy over the radio as they bumped along roads of dirt and gravel. </p>
<p>“Hey, so Ma needs firewood, and I need some alone time, so if you wanna hang out in my room for a while or kick it somewhere else I don’t really mind, but I’ll be out back for a while.”</p>
<p>Peter padded around the rooms and hallways gazing at various photos and knicknacks. The tower didn’t have many items of sentimental value laying around, and there was only so much room in the apartment for family photos, so seeing art projects and photos and aced tests hung on the refrigerator and walls had Peter captivated.</p>
<p>“Hi, dear, I’m making spaghetti for dinner. Just let me know if I’m in your way.” Mrs. Keener stepped into the kitchen and pulled the pasta out of the pantry.</p>
<p>“Oh, no worries, let me help. I have nothing else to do.” Peter smiled, picking up the bread that she had set on the counter.</p>
<p>“Now where is Harley? That boy should be out here helping too.” Macy chastised as she filled a pot with water, “I’ve got two of my own living in this house, and my guest is helping prepare dinner?”</p>
<p>Peter chuckled at the remark, “He said he was just out back chopping firewood.” Carefully, Peter sliced the bread as Macy prepared the pasta. He thought about preparing a ruined dinner so many times with May, grateful that today he was only tasked with cutting bread (and that his cooking partner seemed less inclined to burn everything than May). </p>
<p>“So Peter, Harley won’t tell me, but what’s going on with you two?” Macy inquired with a gleam in her eye, never turning away from the food as if she wasn’t as interested as she really was.</p>
<p>“Oh, oh no it’s nothing like that. No, we’re really great friends, but it’s not like that at all.” Peter explained, nearly dropping a slice of bread in the process.</p>
<p>“Okay, well, you boys are welcome to tell me anything. This home accepts all lifestyles, even if most around here don’t.” Macy turned to face Peter sympathetically, almost sadly. </p>
<p>“Yeah, that’s nice. I guess Tennessee is pretty different from New York. I’ve only been out of New York a few times in my life. I met a cow for the first time on the way here yesterday. We stopped to pet them and everything, and I’ve never seen a cow in real life before, not until yesterday.” Macy smiled at the chatty boy as they prepared the dinner for four in her small kitchen.</p>
<p>“Oh! And the roads are so scary because sometimes they’re there but they don’t really exist.” Peter set the plates full of food onto the table before Macy left to call her children to dinner.</p>
<p>“So, Peter, what is it like in New York?” Abbie had asked as soon as she walked into the room.</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s nice. There’s a whole lot to do, and everyone is really unique.” Peter set down four glasses of sweet tea along with silverware.</p>
<p>“What about school? Are you in any sports? Or clubs?”</p>
<p>“Abbie, you asked this yesterday. Leave him alone.” Harley ran a frustrated hand through his hair at the knowledge that his sister was pestering for information on Peter again. (She and their Ma had already found all of his social media which, unfortunately, Peter never privated). He wiped the sweat off of his forehead as he trudged through the kitchen.</p>
<p>“I’m just curious, Harleston.” She sat down and bit down into her bread, Harley following close behind.</p>
<p>“Stop that, Abigail. I’ll never know why you call your brother that.” Macy said as she sat down to eat. “How was your lunch today, boys?”</p>
<p>“Fine, it was fine,” Harley quickly replied as he picked up his fork, giving Macy a look of warning.</p>
<p>“What’s your issue?” Abbie challenged with her mouth full of buttered bread. In response, Harley only huffed and clinked his fork roughly against the plate of spaghetti.</p>
<p>“Abbie, seriously quit it.”</p>
<p>“Harley,” Macy glanced up at Harley shortly while Peter stayed silent, slowly chewing a mouthful of spaghetti. Macy kept her eyes locked on her two children as Peter avoided eye contact with the three, thoroughly uncomfortable with the tension in the room.</p>
<p>Peter ate his food as quickly as possible, though the silent dinner seemed to last for years. When finally, <em> finally </em>, he had scraped the last noodle off of his plate, Peter promptly excused himself to explore the area surrounding the small home.</p>
<p>“I need some fresh air, I think,” was his best excuse to escape the familial tension that he wanted no part of. He slowly wandered down the gravel driveway, watching the sky turn pink over fields of what he thought was wheat. Turning amongst fields, Peter chose to familiarize himself with the property until he met the property line. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t find any indicators or other buildings for some time as he strolled alongside a field, or possibly many fields. (Peter couldn’t be sure where one field ended and another began, or if it was all just one giant field).</p>
<p>Definitely many fields, Peter realized, as the sun set beyond the treeline, opening up the sky to reveal stars painted above him. <em> Peter had no idea where he was </em> . Which wasn’t a problem in the age of technology, that is, if he could get any service in the rural area, which he couldn’t, so he walked along the fields, trying his best to remember any significant landmarks or identifying features of his path. <em> Dirt, crops, at least a few trees, and that rusty old truck that was pulling up beside him. </em> What?</p>
<p>Peter panicked because, in New York, when a car pulled to a stop beside you while you were lost, you went home a different person, that is, if you went home at all. He did his best to keep his head ducked low and ignore the truck, but in an empty field with no alleys to take shortcuts, he hardly had any way to avoid whoever was now stopping next to him.</p>
<p>Peter braced himself to run, find an exit, because he was <em> Spider-Man </em>, surely he could outrun somebody if need be. The door of the truck opened with a click and he watched a girl stand up on the running board, clearly no older than himself.</p>
<p>She wore a white hoodie with the hood pulled on top of blonde hair. She reminded Peter of MJ who, to anybody with common sense, was sensibly threatening, but the sixth sense that he came to know so well wasn’t so much as stirring at the girl, leading him to his conclusion that maybe, when a truck stopped next to you while you’re alone in Rose Hill, they don’t mean to kill you.</p>
<p>“What’s a city boy doing lost in Rose Hill?” She leaned out of the truck, never actually stepping to the ground though. </p>
<p>“How did you know I’m from the city?” Peter questioned, checking his surroundings once again.</p>
<p>“This is the third time you’ve walked down this road. You lost?”</p>
<p>“Yes, actually, very,” Peter let out a hesitant breath, “I’m staying with a friend I met in New York, but I can’t find my way back now.”</p>
<p>“I see,” she nodded knowingly, “You must be Peter. I’m Gwen.” When it finally clicked for Peter, he realized that he really ought to have recognized Gwen immediately. “Come on, hop in.” She patted the top of the truck before climbing back in, and Peter quickly pushed to open the door on the passenger side.</p>
<p>“Hey, thanks for this.” Peter smiled, buckling the seatbelt in the truck.</p>
<p>“Harley was right about you. You <em> are </em>cute.” She chuckled.</p>
<p>“Everybody here is so nice to me.” He watched Gwen shift the truck into drive and begin to drive in the opposite direction.</p>
<p>“Oh no, it’s a farm town. The people around here can be just awful if you don’t fit a certain mold, but whatever. Who have you already met around here?”</p>
<p>“Just a few people. I met Harley’s mom and sister, and somebody at the diner. He said his name was Eric.” Gwen turned down a road that Peter wasn’t sure he had ever even seen before.</p>
<p>“Eric with the brown hair and the long face?” Peter nodded and hummed in agreement when Gwen glanced at him with a look that he couldn’t place, “Well, it only gets better from there,” she noted under her breath.</p>
<p>“He seemed nice to me,” Peter vouched quietly.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she sighed, “He always <em> seems </em> nice.”</p>
<p>Peter stayed quiet for the rest of the short drive, discouraged by the fact that he’d made such a bad impression on the only person who Harley had specifically wanted him to meet. <em> Great. </em></p>
<p>Gwen walked into the house unannounced before Peter even had a chance to step out of the truck. When he finally made it inside, he stopped to watch her kick the bottom of Harley’s bedroom door until Harley opened it with a huff.</p>
<p>“You’re not glad to see me? You lost your boyfriend in the Miller field.” She embraced Harley in a very casual and very annoyed hug.</p>
<p>“We’re not dating,” Harley grumbled against her. She patted a hand against his back before separating. </p>
<p>“Yeah of course.” Gwen laughed, “Let me know when you’re free, and we can hang out with Abbie at Debbie’s.” Peter recognized the name. Much like the Dixie, Debbie’s was a shortened version of Debbie’s Soft Serve, the ice cream shop that Harley had told Peter about. “I’m headed out.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.” “Thanks, Gwen.” Both boys said goodbyes to Gwen as she left. </p>
<p>As Peter showered for the evening, he thought back to dinner, lunch, and even the flower field in the morning. Had <em> he </em> done something to upset Harley? He thought that maybe Harley was getting sick of him already. At least during the summer in New York they had their own alone time, but now they shared every day as well as a room. Maybe Harley finally needed some space from Peter. He got changed for bed, considering what he did to make his friend push away from him so suddenly.</p>
<p>Harley slept on the couch that night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello thank you for reading<br/>Shoutout to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkner_keenker/pseuds/parkner_keenker">Maia</a> for betaing and also for listening to all of my ideas and looking at all of my docs for this fic<br/>I admin for the <a href="https://discord.gg/cxwUkVW">Parkner Discord</a> and pop in a whole lot so catch me there or @ethereal-parkner on tumblr to chat!<br/>Comments sooth my soul, and I love to chat</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi! i have been working on this chapter since August and that's why it's so bad and so late and i'm very sorry but bear with me i'm trying my best to get back in the writing game<br/>Anyways make sure to join the <a href="https://discord.gg/m7883ErwaM">Parkner Discord</a> as always bc we love new people</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After twenty five minutes of driving at fifteen miles per hour, Harley finally passed the tractor that he and Peter had been stuck behind since they pulled out of his driveway. Of course Harley let Peter talk the whole time, so he wasn’t as annoyed as he usually was when he got stuck behind a tractor on a road where it wasn’t safe to pass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s like when the subway stops for no reason except you can’t just look at your phone to pass the time,” Harley had explained to Peter when he saw the utter confusion flash across Peter’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As far as Peter could tell, Harley was doing better. Quickly after that second night, he returned to his own bed and chatted with Peter every day, even joining Peter on his walks so he wouldn’t get lost again. Harley’s mom made pancakes in the mornings. (Regular, Peter noticed, even though he spied chocolate chips sitting on the counter next to the batter). Sometimes they hung out with Gwen or Abbie, but Peter was mostly relieved that his friend was himself again, so a conversation about that day could wait, especially when Harley was clearly enjoying himself so much since then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within minutes, Harley pulled into the small parking lot of an old church building, not what Peter was expecting when he was told they’d be going to the farmer’s market. Inside, different stands were set up with homemade signs and folding tables and metal boxes to hold money in.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Harley pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket, ripping it in half. “Here, you find these and I’ll take this half.” Peter held the list gently, looking over the various items. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lettuce, onions, tomatoes…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, he made his way around to the tables searching for the items on his list, completely oblivious to the signs on the walls that would point him in the right direction. Just as he approached the lettuce, a hand clasped his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, it’s Peter right?” He turned to see the same boy who he’d met at the Dixie just a week before. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The same boy he’d met on that day.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah. Eric?” Peter asked gingerly, afraid to come off as rude for nearly forgetting his name. As much as he enjoyed meeting him at the diner, the memories of that day had more pressing thoughts urging at Peter’s mind. Maybe his mind wanted to forget simply because of the way his conversation with Gwen ended, but Peter was positive that a short conversation with a seemingly harmless boy wouldn’t hurt anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You come here with Harley?” Peter nodded, “What are you looking for? I know my way around pretty well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter explained to Eric that he was just about to pick up some lettuce, that he was working his way down a list given to them by Harley’s mom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? He rip the list in half and have you split up? That’s just like him. His mom always sent him out on errands and Harley’s all about efficiency.” Peter just smiled in response because, honestly, splitting up and finishing in half the time </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>just like him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, give me your number and you can call me if you ever need to get out of the house. Spending the whole summer there would drive me crazy.” Eric remarked, holding his unlocked phone towards Peter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, sure.” Peter took the phone and typed his number into the contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nine-one-seven? Must be a New York thing.” Eric shrugged, pocketing his phone. “Text you later. See ya around, City Boy.” Eric waved over his shoulder, turning away from Peter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After having bought two heads of lettuce, Peter moved on to search for the onions, running into Harley along the way. Peter noticed that Harley had his arms full of bags, clearly finished his half of the list.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t gotten anything yet? Peter, it’s been forty minutes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter ashamedly glanced at his one bag of lettuce, then back at Harley’s four bags filled with fruits. “I got the lettuce,” he offered bashfully as he scratched at the back of his neck, “It just took me a while to find.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Peter, there’s signs with arrows everywhere. C’mere, we’ll finish the list together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley led Peter down the aisles to each stand, picking out the vegetables from the list one by one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, which of these tomatoes do you think is better?” Harley pushed two similar tomatoes into Peter’s hands, bags set down on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harley, I don’t even like tomatoes.” Upon Harley’s insistence, Peter eventually gave in, holding out the tomato in his left hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. Feel how this one’s heavier? That means it’ll be better,” Harley put both tomatoes into a bag anyways, “That’s life lessons with Harley. Now you’ll always know which tomato is better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harley, there is no time in which I’ll ever need to know which tomato is better,” Peter answered with a small huff. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe not, young padawan, but the knowledge itself is priceless.” He slung a lazy arm around Peter as they headed towards the doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, first of all,” Peter shrugged Harley’s arm off of his shoulders, “I’m the Jedi, not the padawan, and I have plenty of useful knowledge that has nothing to do with heavy tomatoes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley pushed the door to the building open with his shoulder, arms full of produce bags. He held the door open with his back as Peter followed close behind. Their shoes crunched against the gravel parking lot as they pushed the bags into the back seat of Harley’s truck. Harley pulled a tomato out of the closest bag and bit directly into the side, holding it like an apple. Peter was horrified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey so what the fuck?” Peter insisted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Harley questioned innocently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is this?” Peter gestured wildly to the bitten tomato in Harley’s hand, “Is this a fucking joke or what? Who eats a tomato like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Peter, it’s food,” Harley noted through a mouth of tomato. Peter felt that he’d never been more enraged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t be eating tomatoes at all, much less biting straight into them like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>heathen</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Peter scowled at the display in front of him, affronted by the fact that his best friend was suddenly a monster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pete, it’s a tomato. Everyone eats tomatoes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just go. I’m disgusted.” Peter crossed his arms and huffed as he leaned back into the seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley chuckled and started the truck, ignoring Peter’s quiet grumbles of disgust as he chomped down on his tomato. He gave a quiet laugh as he made out the words, “absolutely horrible” from the passenger seat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowing to a pause, Harley found himself, once again, driving behind the same slow tractor on the same hilly back road, only this time going the other way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is it still here? We were at the farmer’s market for so long!” Peter announced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They have to do work on the farm all day, Peter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>New York would be enraged, Peter knows, but it’s not like they have anywhere to be. He sat back and admired the fields from his window. He couldn’t really be sure where they were, though. Every field and farm seemed to look exactly the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Picking up his buzzing phone, Peter read over the new message from a number he didn’t recognize.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey Pete, it’s Eric :) what’s up?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter quickly tapped out a happy response, anything to distract him from another longest car ride of his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>hi!! on our way back, and stuck behind a tractor :0</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter sent the message quickly, receiving a response almost immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no! That happens around here, I hope you’re not stuck for too long, but I can keep you company :)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled at the words glowing on his phone as another message came in.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do you like it here? What’s it like in the city?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i love it here, and i love new york too! they’re really great for their own reasons, but i’m totally not used to being here</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“This tractor is driving me crazy!” Peter sighed as he set his phone down. He turned to the boy in the driver’s seat, hand rested carelessly over the wheel and laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just be patient. We’ll get to pass eventually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun shone through the car window, illuminating the boy’s golden hair. Peter watched as the rays danced on Harley’s freckles, wind playing through his hair. (God he was so blessed that Harley always kept the windows down). In fact, he nearly missed the next buzz from his phone while he was watching the pure joy of his best friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Harley’s mom called the boys for breakfast the next morning, Peter and Harley were both still dead asleep after staying up until four in the morning watching movies together. Nonetheless, Peter couldn’t help but be pulled out of bed by the smell coming from the kitchen: blueberry pancakes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, sleepyheads,” Macy chimed at the teen boys sporting sleepy eyes and opposite bedhead. Harley’s normally fluffy hair was flattened entirely in the back, leaving a dent in his head of hair. In contrast, Peter’s hair had gone even wilder than usual, sticking out in odd directions that he would just barely be able to get under control once he was fully awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Halfway through his pancake, Harley managed to muster, “Gwen is coming over today, Ma. She wants to tie-dye shirts with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fine, honey, but you better keep it outside,” Macy waved a wooden spoon idly as she spoke, “I don’t want y’all dying my floors in here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me tie-dye something!” Abbie noted, barely looking up from her breakfast.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No way, brat! You’ll use it all up.” Harley retorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a clear look from his mother, Harley seemed to change his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning Keeners and Peter!” Gwen exclaimed, kicking her way into the sleepy room with arms full of tie dye supplies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Gwen honey. Let Harley and Peter blow up the pool in the back so you can tie dye outside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Upon hearing this, the two boys stood wordlessly and trudged towards the back to blow up the pool. Unfortunately, to their displeasure, the kiddie pool seemed to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>impossible</span>
  </em>
  <span> to blow up. After watching Harley huff and puff over the blow up pool for nearly ten minutes, Peter took to snatching the plastic away to try for himself, only to have his face go red and cheeks puffed out as he blew into the plastic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley took back the kiddie pool to blow up as he watched a winded and sweaty Peter attempt to catch his breath. For nearly an hour, the two went back and forth trying to blow up the kiddie pool until it stood shamefully, just barely full enough to keep it up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not even full!” Gwen noted when she saw the pool, “I sure hope you haven’t been smooching back here this whole time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On a normal day, the two would have retorted against the accusation, but it seemed they were too exhausted at the time to even notice what she had said. Upon receiving their shirts, all four began twisting and twirling their shirts and tying them to begin their dye job. Well, all except Peter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For nearly fifteen minutes, Peter twisted and retwisted his white tshirt, ending up with a ball or a pile every time rather than the nice cinnamon bun shape that the other three were holding. Reaching for the dyes, Harley watched the boy scrunch his eyebrows and flatten his tshirt again to start over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, let me do it.” Harley reached for the wrinkled shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I can do it! It’s just a tshirt, I know I can do it.” Peter exclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pete, it’s been ten minutes,” Harley chuckled, “Just let me do it so we can dye our shirts.” Peter sighed, letting Harley take the mess of a shirt from his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, after Harley tied the shirt (much faster than Peter), Peter was able to begin. He immediately picked up purple and blue bottles of dye for his own shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should do matching shirts!” Peter said, “We can do the same colors and have homemade matching best friend shirts!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Upon hearing Peter’s plan to match with Harley, Abbie, who was still choosing colors, exclaimed, “I want a matching shirt with my big sister!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you always do this, Abbie? You realize that you and I are related by blood, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A protective arm snaked around Abbie’s shoulders as Gwen hissed,</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Don’t be rude to my sister.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The four made their shirts together. Peter and Harley’s shirts were purple and blue whereas Gwen and Abbie’s were pink and red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two need to put more dye on your shirts or they won’t turn out,” Gwen told them as she gestured to their projects.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Gwen, yours is literally dripping with dye. Ours are covered, see? I think they’ll be fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen only shrugged in response and went back to her own shirt. Peter and Harley’s shirts were not fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they were fully rinsed and untied, it was revealed that Abbie and Gwen’s shirts were a beautiful lemon lime swirl full of color. Harley and Peter’s on the other hand were uneven and left a lot to be desired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least they still match,” Peter offered with a smile, “Let’s send a picture to Mr. Stark! He’ll love that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After snapping a photo of the shirts, the shirts were laid out in the laundry room to go through the washer one by one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s lay down,” Peter suggested, “I’m so tired,” He uttered through a yawn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley yawned in response while nodding his head, “Let’s go.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for reading and sticking with me! i'm sorry it's taken me so long to get out a new chapter, but school had me so busy! <br/>please leave a comment or something thank u ily</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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